Erasable
by brokenseraphim
Summary: A story about a child who led a misguided life and fought for independence at too young an age. In her confusion she made for herself an idea to base her persona around. Insanity.Drowning in her self-accusations,she tricks her own mind into believing lies


Insanity. Such a cruel world it brought filled with lies, paranoia, and blinding white…and yet, for some reason it brought peace. Peace upon the troubled, upon the lost, upon the Godless. Such a tempting forbidden fruit, such madness that brought tranquility, that brought pain that soothed. Insanity was the perfect world of imperfections, composed of nothing more than contradictions, and soon enough, I found myself immersed in it--immersed in this world that would take all of me.

"I love being insane." The words flew out of my mouth, perfectly uttered, little whispers in the dimly lit room. My grey eyes stared forward pass the ceiling towards the sky that held Satan in disguise.

A startled gasp, a flurry of worried shouts, all expected reactions for those who couldn't simply understand the beauty that I experienced—such unlucky humans they were. "E-excuse me?"

A frown twitched at my lips, annoyed at their incompetence. Heaving a sigh I let my body lift itself up, black hair cascading down as I sat up on the leather couch, "Please do not make me repeat myself, _doctor._ It's quite irritating." I let myself face her, this sad, pitiful being. The poor lady was the servant of the devil and was ignorant of it! Here she was attempting to rid us, the blessed of blissful insanity. "Cure" us they called it, make us "normal" again. Fools upon cowards, insects in human form, idiots such of them could truly never experience God's gift.

I saw it in her eyes, as I narrowed my own, she did not believe me. From the very get-go she thought of me as a liar. One of those pathetic adolescents who claimed insanity for the attention, but soon enough, soon enough she will fully comprehend that I am no fool-hardy child.

The doctor straightened herself as I had, stiffening her shoulders, tensing her back, a poor attempt at looking authoritative. "Would like to explain that to me, Yameru? This love you have for 'insanity'."

I rolled my eyes at her, sick of these interrogation games she has played with me for far too long. "It is love, or do you not understand the concept of the word, doctor? Perhaps…" I trailed off in thought, thinking of my beloved madness, "I suppose you can call it an obsession."

"An obsession?" I scoffed at her, yet another obvious, predictable retort from her painted lips. I could not possibly comprehend why my parents would pay this lady sixty dollars an hour so she could repeat my words in question form. But then again, my parents w_ere_ idiots.

"Yes, doctor. I do believe that was what I said. Maybe you should get a hearing check-up? You're proving to be more and more senile by the week." I sneered, silently hoping that she would burst and give me some entertainment for the day. I would just love to see this rebel against God shriek and cry in outrageous fury. A Kodak moment, I think I would call it. Sadly though, no such memorable moment seemed to come as the clock ticked five p.m and my _treatment_ session came to an end.

I took a glance at the clock then back to her make-up covered face, an eyebrow raised, "If you have nothing else to waste my oh-so precious time with, I am leaving."

A heaving sigh racked through her rotting body and she laid her cursed clipboard against the small coffee table between us, "Of course, good bye Yameru."

Oh dear lord above, how I smirked at her actions, at her face, at her posture, at her! How I wanted to cackle, point my finger, and scream about her failure. A desperate fool she was, nothing but a fool. Slowly I would break her, slowly I would shred her mind to pieces, tear her hope apart, rip her tears from her eyes. Soon enough, I told myself as I strolled out the furnished room and out the door, hands clenching in beautiful glee against my sides and the urge to twirl down the hallway more tempting than ever. Soon, I would break her, and those pointless sessions to take my beloved insanity away from me would end. But nothing, nothing at all can take me away from my bliss—Only my dear God.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I smiled at the thick leather bound book before me, splattered with black ink here and there that formed letters that formed words. Ink is such a beautiful thing. It's so beautifully colored, so wonderfully shaped, and most importantly it cannot be erased. Oh, how God must love ink as much as I! Why else would he create something so perfect and lustrous if he did not love it so?

I laughed aloud—me and my silly self. Such odd thoughts I think to myself, if someone knew I thought such odd things, they would think I was insane. I traced the lovely formed letters on the sheet of paper, a frown starting to curve my lips downwards. I suppose I shouldn't say such awful things, even if they are just thoughts. "After all, insanity," I whispered gently, "is a horrid thing."

I let out a hearty chuckle, at those words. "Oh, how hilarious I am!" I rolled off the cushioned bed and up to my feet, dancing in little circles across my bed room floor. Insanity, a horrid thing? "BLASPHEMY!" I screamed, hurling the thick book across the room and into the mirror that shattered, sprinkling pieces of glass upon the worn, wooden ground.

"Insanity is a gift," I muttered beneath my breath, hardly perceptible to my own straining ears, my body starting to calm, "It is release." Dropping to my knees, I leaned forward onto calloused palms and started to crawl. One hand forward, one leg up. A pattern of sorts, and I hated patterns! Insanity was random, it was a break from the cycle, and it was different. I grabbed a sharp piece of glass on the floor as the footsteps started to approach and faint shouts became audible to my ears. "Insanity," I brought the shard up to my wrist, teasing the pale, throbbing skin, "is freedom."

Red is such a lovely color, God must love it too.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I stared forward at the figures before me, fingers anxiously nipping at the rough bandage they had forced onto my wonderfully cut wrist. Pitiable idiots! How dare they stop the flow of God's beloved crimson? My hands trembled in silent rage as I continued to glare at my parents—no, not my parents. The only parent I had was God, dear father. No parents of mine would stop me in my purification, in my ritual of dear madness.

"Why are you doing this?" the man, my so-called father's voice was soft and shaking, betraying his weakness. "After all we've done for you, how could you try and do something so reckless?"

I listened closely to his words or rather, not at his words but his voice. I listened closely at how it quivered, imprinting that fear into my brain, and slowly my anger started to fade. That was right, wasn't it? These…_things_ did not know how great insanity was, how amazing it felt, they were like children who did not know any better. Closing my eyes softly to truly regain peace, I sighed, "Reckless, you say…I am merely, " I opened my eyes to look straight into his, "Saving myself."

There was a screech and a loud thud as the woman next to the man I was speaking to leapt forward, fake tears spilling from her dark eyes. She attached her dirty hands onto me, but I did not mind, soon enough, I shall be clean. She screamed and shrilled, scratching at my face, clenching at my throat, "You monster, you spawn of Satan! Give me my daughter back, I want Yameru back."

I chose to keep my mouth shut, this woman did not understand. She was spouting nonsense like she always did, acting like a nonsensical beast as everyone else always did. In fact, the stupid lady was helping me! Her nails cut past the horrible barrier of skin that kept back God's darling nectar, and soon enough I felt that sensational feeling of thick liquid creeping down my cheeks.

The feeling was so incredibly alluring, I almost _moaned_ out in joy. But soon enough, that joy ended as that fake father of mine dragged the raging beast off my motionless body. I glanced at the pair through the corner of my eye. He held her tight to his chest as she continued to sob, offering her what little comfort he could provide. For a moment, I thought I felt envious, but that could not happen. Because my love is stronger than theirs, my love is _real_.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

School is an utter bore. It's useless, filled with bumbling idiots, and wastes my life more than my therapeutic sessions. But then again, I felt a smile twitch at my lips as I set eyes on a figure not too far ahead from where I stood in the mass of uniform-wearing students, there was one thing that made school not so bad.

For some reason I felt my legs speed up, my hands start to shake in nervousness, and I couldn't help but let a smile tug at my cheeks desperately. "Yuan!" I raised my hand in greeting, too excited for my own good.

He turned, brown eyes meeting with mine, "Oh…hi, Yameru."

I felt a shameless blush tug at my cheeks, "It's nice to see you, Yuan. I-"

"Yameru," he cut me off, taking a short glance at his group of friends who were watching us intently he turned back to me, "can I talk to you for a second? It's kind of important."

My cheeks flared up, growing redder by the second; I could not understand what was going on with me. "Of course! Anything you say."

The next thing I knew, I was outside of the school building, away from all of those stereotypical teenagers who judged with their eyes, the devil's soldiers-in-training. But, Yuan, he was different. He could love me; he could understand the bliss I am gifted with.

I looked up at him expectantly but his eyes would not meet mine, he continued to stare at my cheek where my supposed mother had attacked me. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it, like a goldfish, and then finally the words came to him, and I regret they did. "Yameru, I want to ask you to stop talking to me."

I blinked blankly up at him. "Excuse me?" My mind must be deceiving me, must be warping his words, because there was no possible way that he would say something so extremely cruel, so heart-breaking to me. Yuan is supposed to be nice. Yuan is supposed to be perfect. Yuan is supposed to love me.

"I'm so sorry, Yameru. But I don't think I can handle being around you anymore." He bowed to me, and just like that he left. Just like that, he disappeared, turned his back to me, acting like I was never there, never supposed to be there. Like I was a mistake.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I locked the door to my bedroom behind me, breath hitching in my throat as I stumbled forward, knees buckling as I hit the side of my bed, collapsing onto the blanketed surface. The plastic bag in my hand crinkled as I brought it up to my face, examining its contents thoughtfully. I had stopped by the supermarket today, after my little…encounter with Yuan.

Erasers. That was how I had first met Yuan in the first place. Back in those elementary days where I was ignorant like everyone else, where I did not know that God loved me so much. I had simply asked to borrow one of his, because my own eraser did not work well, "useless" I remember calling it.

I turned the plastic bag upside down, letting it spill its contents out onto the bed. Dozens upon dozens of erasers flew out, piling out into my lap. "Let the ceremony," I whispered to myself, "begin."

I held the white rubber in my palm, caressing its smooth sides, and I brought it, so longingly, against my hand where the cuts still burned. And I rubbed. I rubbed so hard I bled, so hard that I cried, so hard that I felt like I was finally dying.

Eraser after eraser I spent, scrubbing against my skin to rid myself of imperfections, of my existence. If Yuan did not love me, I will find my love. God shall love me, forever and ever. God will love me as I lie amongst these eraser shavings. These eraser shavings all over my bed shall be my heaven, shall be all I need in this worldly life.

Erasers are such a lovely thing, God must love them.

So may God, erase me.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

The main concept behind this story that needs to be understood is that Yameru was not insane. She was misguided as a child, left to fend for herself and find her own way. But, she fought for independence at too an early an age. At a lost she created this part of her that she would base herself on, that being insanity. Insanity became her world, she continuously tells herself that insanity is a gift, it is what God is giving her, and she continues to fool herself so well, that she in turn, becomes insane, merely because she tricked her mind into thinking so.

I sort of just wrote this story on a whim when I was passing by a challenge on a web site. It's pretty rushed and doesn't have enough detail (for me to be happy with), but I hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks for Reading,

brokenseraphim


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